


Suit and Tie

by ATLenya



Series: Prompt fics [5]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Crossdressing Kink, Cunnilingus, Dem glasses, Eggsy is a Little Shit, Exhibitionism, F/M, High Heels Kink, Honey Trap Mission, I mean not really but you're never too careful right?, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Movie, Smut, Sort of? - Freeform, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, bondage (mention), but Harry is too cool to ever compromise a mission, oh I guess, prompt ficlet, sort of, spoiler - Freeform, works in there too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 04:44:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATLenya/pseuds/ATLenya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HartWin smut. Egg plug. High Heels. Visio-glasses sex.</p><p>Oh yeah I went there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suit and Tie

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Fic. Smut as hell.  
> By Ukelx, Rin, Crystal and Miles. (y'all are devils)
> 
> Prompt: Easter Egg + Misuse of Spy Gadgets + High Heels
> 
> Contains:  
> \- gay sex scene (DUH)  
> \- Crossdressing Kink  
> \- High Heels Kink  
> \- Voyeurism  
> \- Suits  
> \- Webcam sex (but really video/visio glasses sex)

Harry smiled demurely at the woman in the gold dress, their eyes meeting from the opposite sides of the room. Picking up a crystal flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, he made his way over, without hurry. The hook was already in; all he had to do is butter her up a bit more.  
Just as he was 6 meters away from her, an image flickered into view in his visio-spectacles, just a flicker before appearing again, more clearly. The Kingsman had to muster all of his training to keep walking calmly and ignore the apparition, all the while willing his pants to not tighten nearly automatically.  
His eyes not straying from the woman, he stopped in front of her, smiling slightly.

“The chamber orchestra’s rendition of Strauss’ Vienna Blood was beautifully performed.” He offered steadily, his eyes never leaving the woman. “However I must admit, whatever I did, my eyes wouldn’t stray too far from you … Benedict Wyndham-Price, at your service.”

The still sort of newly promoted Arthur bowed and kissed the air over his mark’s knuckles, his eyes surreptitiously narrowing onto the image on his glasses, drinking it in like a starving mad dog, his trained mind taking in every little detail in the milliseconds it took to straighten back up. Because standing there, in the corner of his glasses, was Gary “call me Eggsy” Unwin, also known as newly chosen Kingsman Galahad, smiling coyly at him. But more than anything, Eggsy was apparently sitting on a bed (probably their bed, in their flat), and he couldn’t help but mentally curse the glasses for only showing a blue-tinted 3D version of Eggsy’s (oh so tempting) figure. The younger man was wearing a laced ensemble with a corset, straining against his muscled chest, and panties bulging over his filling cock, as well as a pair of dark Marc Fishers High Heels with a strap around his ankles that resembled the shackles they often used together in their more passionate trysts.  
The Kingsman’s eyes returned (nearly painfully) to the woman in front of him, who was looking back with a tempting smile of her own.

“Katrina Yvania. Charmed.” She answered as Harry thanked god and cursed him for peripheral vision.

He continued painstakingly his flirtation with Yvania, as in the periphery of his focus, Eggsy writhed on the bed, caressing his lace covered crotch and looking back teasingly at the camera transmitting his image to Harry’s glasses.  
Arthur had turned around for a moment to readjust his spectacles, grab a new flute of champagne, and chance a second to take another look at Eggsy’s reflection. His throat dried and he had to take a long sip of his glass as the image showed Eggsy, on all four, with his back to him, pushing his lace panties out of the way, to show off (good lord have mercy on him, this kid was going to be the death of him) the plug he had in. He knew that base shape. That was the plug he’d jokingly bought for Eggsy last Easter. The egg shaped one with a Playboy bunny design under the base.  
His eyes took a precious second to embrace the image of his lover, presenting his arse to him. His muscled calves and powerful thighs, which could grip him so hard he’d bruise. The choker on his ankles and the sharp high heels dressing his feet, adding just a touch of something, igniting an untamed fire in his guts. The curve of his back and the shape of his beautiful arse, he longed to sink in. His waist, clad in the restrictive corset; and his shoulders, just begging to be grabbed and bruised by bite marks.

The rest of the night goes in a blur. He actually doesn’t even need to bed his mark; just making her come with his mouth, in a toilet stall, seems to be enough to unwind her enough to gather the necessary information. Maybe the sheer dexterity he displays has something to do with it, as he keeps his eyes riveted on Eggsy the whole time. The younger man is twisting his plug around, his mouth darker from biting it, as he thrusts into his own hand with passion. Harry wishes he could have the audio as well, but Eggsy probably didn’t find the correct lines of code to jack both video and audio, however his lover’s parted lips are enough for his mind to ring with his long throaty, sinful moans. He is controlling his would-be erection by sheer power of will by now.  
Pumping the woman full of amnesia drug, and leaving her passed out in the toilet stall, then getting rid of all traces of his presence at the function, is child’s play. The drive from Bodiam Castle in East Sussex back to London is done in record times and Harry white-knuckles through it, trying not to let his eyes wander to the side, where Eggsy has ditched his corset and his panties, having come all over them, remaining only in his high heels, and is leisurely stroking himself back to vigour (ah the beauty of youth), his other hand caressing his chest tantalizingly.

The one little bastion of rationality in his brain, that hasn’t been completely overridden by sheer lust, knows that he needs to give his report to Merlin. The rest of his brain, however, can only focus on getting home and taking what has been offered for him to see and has been tempting him all night. And he knows Merlin enough to know that the man probably found his hacker a while ago and, upon seeing the feed sent by Galahad, probably shut down his own feed, explaining his lack of involvement in tonight’s mission.  
These thoughts in mind, he drives directly home. Barely stopping from kicking the door in as he approaches with long strides, he takes his glasses off and climbs the stairs to their bedroom, hearing the breathing moans filling it from the hall outside the door.  
Eggsy freezes when he walks in. He is on his back at the edge of the bed, his hard-on and his arse presented to the camera and his legs spread with the heels digging and nearly ripping into their sheets. There's a shine of sweat all over his naked body and a trail on come on his stomach and chest...  
Harry strides in calmly and closes the door behind him, a predatory look overcoming his affable smile.

"Manners. Maketh. Man..." He quotes lightly as the sound of the lock clicks behind him, barely audible as Eggsy's loud breathing catches. "You seem to require a lesson, young man..."

**Author's Note:**

> One day I'll just go down the deep end and write a full sex scene. But that day is NOT TODAY.


End file.
